


All's Fair in Love and War

by Sermocinare



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Blood and Violence, Cold blooded Murder, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Hux being badass, M/M, Mercenaries, Oral Sex, Phasma is the voice of reason, Swords and Guns, aww he does care, the First Order as a mercenary company, violence on and off the battlefield, well sort of but they would never admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sermocinare/pseuds/Sermocinare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Europe in the late 16th century: the First Order is the most sought-after mercenary company on the continent. Its General is known for his tactical genius and utter ruthlessness, and will annihilate anyone who stands between him and victory. Sometimes, Hux is quite sure that the primary threat to his well-being isn't the armies that meet him on the battlefield, but rather one Lord Ren, leader of the Order's heavy cavalry and sent by God (or, more likely, the devil) to vex him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All's Fair in Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> Please see the notes at the end for the stunning piece of artwork created by weird-things-first (weird-things-first.tumblr.com)

„Ren.“

The General stepped into the ever-shifting circle of light around the fire, his eyes seeking out the dark figure of Lord Kylo Ren. 

„What is it, General?“

Ren barely looked up from the work he was doing, the whetstone skimming over the edge of his blade in long, practiced strokes. 

Hux gave a small huff, and Ren could hear the frown he was probably wearing right now, lips pressed together and the corners of his mouth turned downwards as if he had just smelled something rotten. It was a shame that the General frowned so much, seeing how much Ren liked those plush lips. 

„A messenger arrived. Terms have been offered, and we will have to discuss if this engagement has any chance of being profitable.“

For a moment, the men locked gazes, neither of them moving. Then, the General lifted his hand and crooked two leather-clad fingers in a come hither gesture. 

Making a show of sighing and getting up, Ren sheathed and buckled his sword and threw his cloak over his shoulders before following the retreating form of General Hux. 

They wound their way through the dozens of small fires that dotted the landscape, heading for the General's tent which loomed in the midst of the mercenary camp and served as both home and command center for Hux. Inside, Captain Phasma was already waiting, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Hux stepped up to the large rectangular table that occupied the middle of the main part of the tent. A large map of the region was splayed out on the rough surface of the table, but the real item of interest was the piece of paper lying on top of it.

„Captain, I trust you have already familiarized yourself with the contents of that missive?“

Phasma nodded, and Hux went on: „It is a reasonable offer, and I think we would do well to accept it. We would be fighting alongside two other companies...“ here, Hux threw a glance over at Ren, who had been studying the delivered offer, but perked up at the General's words.

„Which ones?“

Hux drew a breath, resting his hands at the small of his back: „The Red Serpent and the Hawk's Talon.“

„The Talon, yes, but I am not working alongside the Serpent.“

Yes, this was exactly what Hux had been afraid of. Letting his breath out with a sigh, he shook his head: „Ren, this isn't the time or place for childish grudges.“

„Childish grudges?!“ Ren rounded in on the General, stepping right up into his personal space: „You might have forgotten how those idiots almost got us all killed at Osnabruck, but I haven't. I am not risking my life, or that of my knights, by making that mistake again.“

„If I remember correctly, Lord Ren,“ Hux said, spitting out the other man's title as if it were poison, „all of that would not have happened if you had followed my battle plan.“

„Your battle plan was falling apart at the seams!“ Ren retorted, his hand wandering to the pommel of his sword. „There wasn't anything left to follow!“

A loud thump, followed by the soft clink of chain mail brushing against metal, made both men spin their heads around and look in the direction of Captain Phasma, whose palms were resting on top of the table. As soon as she was sure she had both Hux' and Ren's attention, the woman straightened up again: “How about we forgo these discussions of past mistakes and focus on the present, which is to say, the offer that has been laid on our table?”

“We are...”

Phasma waved a hand as if to shoo Ren's words back into his mouth: “We cannot afford to pass this by. Winter is coming, and if we haven't bolstered our coffers a bit more until then, it's going to be a very lean winter for us all.”

“So what do you propose, Captain?” Ren asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman.

“You probably haven't noticed, seeing how you don't tend to mingle with most of the troops,” Phasma said with just the faintest hint of accusation in her tone, “but we've taken on a group of men recently. They decided to switch companies. From the Serpent.”

When neither Ren nor Hux seemed to have anything to say, Phasma went on: “I've been talking to them, and it seems like things aren't looking good over there. There haven't been many requests for their services recently, and the soldiers are getting restless. And,” this was said directly to Ren, “as you know, soldiers usually are only as capable and disciplined as the ones who command them.” 

“You're suggesting we take over the company?” Hux said, brow furrowing in thought. 

“Exactly.”

Ren's skepticism was palpable: “And how are we going to do that?”

“By cutting off the snake's head,” Hux answered.

“Let me get this straight. You two are suggesting we murder Hutt and then just take over his company? That's quite a risky plan. One which could get us all killed.”

Hux gave a shrug: “I think it's entirely doable. If there is enough resentment, no one will give a shit about Hutt being disposed of. Sure, not everyone will accept the offer to join, but those who don't aren't likely to mount any kind of actual resistance.” 

The knight was still scowling, but at least his hand was no longer on the sword at his hip: “If.”

“We can find that out soon enough,” Hux said, pulling the paper with the offer towards him. “I'm going to send a few people out to scout the situation.” 

He had half a mind to send Ren, just to get that infuriating man out of his hair, but Ren was about the least subtle person he knew. And Hux knew a lot of people.

“I'd say it's settled, then?” Hux looked at his fellow commanders, who both nodded, Ren with much less enthusiasm than Phasma. 

Seeing how the matter was settled, Hux once again pulled the letter which outlined the terms of the contract towards where he was standing, already formulating an appropriate response. He paid no heed to the retreat of his fellow commanders, and thus, it took a little while for him to notice that one of them had in fact not done so.

“Is there anything else you would like to discuss, Ren?” Hux said, not straightening up just yet, but merely turning his gaze towards the tall figure still looming at the entrance to his tent. 

“I'm not entirely happy with this plan of yours.”

“Oh dear, I'm stricken,” Hux replied, sarcasm dripping off his words. Then, he straightened his posture, shooting Ren an annoyed glance: “Then why the fuck did you agree to it in the first place?”

Ren smirked, moving to stand beside the General: “Because Phasma is right, we need to fill our coffers before winter hits. That doesn't mean that the way you are going about it is wise.”

God damn him. Hux slammed the flat of his hand on the table: “Me? Aren't you the one who constantly points out that I am not in sole command of this company? I didn't hear you come up with any brilliant plans.” Hux' lips curled into a sneer: “Then again, what are you even worrying about, Lord Ren?”

Sure, it was a cheap shot, but the heavy inflection on Ren's title still had the desired effect. Before Hux could even blink, Ren was already right in his face, baring his teeth in a snarl: “You know damn well that I need this as much as you do, you prick. That title isn't even worth the ink you'd need to write it.”

Hux drew himself up to his full height, which was regrettably still a few inches less than what the knight had on him: “Yes, because you pissed it all away, didn't you? Fucking brat. Some of us had to claw our way through the mud to get where we are.”

“Yes, but you're not one of them. Or do I have to remind you where half of your soldiers come from, hm? Your inheritance is worth more than mine would ever have been.”

For a while, the two men just stood there, glowering at each other. Then, Ren gave a huff and took a half-step back: “As for why I agreed to this, it's the same reason I always do.”

Hux chuckled and bared his teeth in a grin, folding his arms in front of his chest: “Because you know that I'm just that much smarter than you?”

“No, you arrogant asshole,” Ren said with a derisive snort, but there was a hint of fond amusement in it, too. “Because you're the one who can talk hundreds of men into going along with whatever plan you come up with, regardless of how hare-brained it seems to be, and at the end of the day, it always turns out that you were right all along. And I do appreciate your talented mouth,” he added with a predatory smirk.

“Consider me flattered,” Hux said, turning back towards the table and waving a hand as if to dismiss the other man.

Ren rolled his eyes, barely holding back a sigh. Hux was infuriating, so much that Ren often had to hold himself back from smacking him in the face. Sometimes, he didn't manage to hold back. But right now, that would not have gotten him an inch closer to what he wanted. 

Moving behind Hux, Ren wrapped his arms around the other man's middle and nuzzled into Hux' ginger hair. That had been one of the first things he had noticed about Hux. Instead of trying to hide it, Hux used all those little superstitions about red hair to his advantage, for making him seem even more fearsome than he already was. 

“Ren. I still have work to do,” Hux growled, but Ren noticed that Hux didn't tense up. Quite on the contrary, the General seemed to relax a bit, tipping some of his weight into Ren's body. 

Ren spread his fingers, laying his hand flush over Hux' flat belly, feeling the muscles there flutter slightly, and nosed the rim of the other man's ear. “So that's the game we're playing tonight, hm?”

“I am not playing games.”

“Oh, is that why you're pressing your ass against my crotch?”

Hux growled, the sound traveling from his body right into Ren's, stoking the fire that had been ignited there, and squirmed underneath Ren's hand: “Fuck off.”

“What was that?” the knight muttered against Hux' neck, peppering the warm skin with kisses, “you want to suck me off?”

At that, Hux laughed, turning around to face Ren, green eyes glittering with amusement: “Oh, but I'm the arrogant asshole?”

Before Ren could come up with a reply, Hux closed his mouth with a kiss, foregoing any kind of subtlety by pushing his tongue into the other man's mouth and not letting up until he had teased a low moan out of Ren. 

If Ren had thought that he would have time to catch his breath once Hux pulled back, though, he was gravely mistaken. Latching on to the knight's neck, Hux used his lips and teeth to mark the pale skin, his hips pressing up against the other man's, a low chuckle escaping his throat when he noticed that Ren was already half hard in his pants.

Ren let his hands wander down Hux' back until he could grip the other man's ass, using it to hold Hux in place while he ground against him. 

“You changed your mind pretty quick there,” he rumbled into Hux' ear, then licked against its shell. “You're such a whore, Hux.”

Hux let his teeth sink into the muscle that flowed from Ren's neck into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw a yelp from the knight: “I'm not the one lingering around because he needs his cock sucked.”

“How about you get to it, then, General?”

Hux snorted, but let himself drop to his knees in front of Ren, who was already pulling at the fastening of his breeches as if to prove Hux' point. 

Hux looked up at Ren, flashing him a grin that was all teeth, as if to remind Ren that he had them. Then, he focused his attention on what was in front of him, nuzzling against the shaft with a sound that was almost a purr before giving it a few teasing licks. 

Ren was shifting his weight from one foot to the other before Hux finally decided that it was time to give the man what he wanted. The moment he let his mouth slide over Ren's cock, the knight's hand found its way into Hux' hair, gently scratching the scalp before grabbing at it. If it weren't for the cock in his mouth, Hux would have laughed. Ren did that every time, even though Hux wouldn't dream of stopping now, being too aroused to deny them both the pleasure. 

When he heard the first quiet moans escaping Ren's lips, Hux redoubled his efforts, taking Ren deeper, until he had the other man groaning out loud. Once, after a particularly loud bout of fucking, Ren had asked if it didn't bother Hux that everyone knew he was getting fucked by him. Hux had laughed, and told him that once you were as good at winning battles as he was, most people didn't care, and the few that did kept their mouth shut about it. 

Ren's thighs were starting to quiver underneath the palms of Hux' hands, the hand in his hair tightening until its grip was painful, making Hux growl around the length in his mouth, letting his teeth scratch against the sensitive skin as if in retaliation. 

Which was exactly what Ren needed to finally reach orgasm, groaning out Hux' name as he came, his body shuddering while Hux continued sucking until Ren was completely spent. Looking down, Ren could see Hux' adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and fuck if that wasn't one of the most erotic sights Ren had ever seen. The feared and mighty General Hux, on his knees in the dirt, swallowing every drop Ren had given him before pulling back and licking his lips as if it were the best thing he had ever tasted.

After a few heartbeats, Hux rose from his kneeling position, his motions fluid and unhurried despite his quite obvious erection. Smiling and keeping his eyes locked with Ren's, he tucked the other man away and patted his crotch in an almost condescending manner. 

Then, Hux moved in to press his swollen, still sticky lips against Ren's before muttering: “My turn.”

Ren pulled him in for another searing kiss, his hands coming to rest on Hux' ass and giving it a squeeze. 

Then, he stepped away from Hux, fastening his breeches before turning around and walking towards the flap of the tent: “Good night, Genereal.”

For a moment, Ren was sure that Hux would either attack or scream at him, but the only thing he heard before stepping out into the night was a hissed: “Fuck you, you son of a bitch!”

Ren chuckled to himself. He was probably going to pay for this, one way or the other, but after all, the General did owe him something for agreeing to that hare-brained plan of his.

–

“So we're in agreement about the battle plan, then?”

Hux raised his eyebrows at Commander Hutt, who gave a curt nod: “We'll hold the right.”

“Very good. I do think we have a good chance at victory. Although there is still one obstacle that needs to be dealt with.”

“And what would that be?”

Hux gave the other man a wolfish grin: “You.”

In one quick, fluid motion, Hux positioned himself behind Hutt, grabbing the other man's hair to yank his head back. Not even a heartbeat later, Hutt's hands flew up to his throat as if to try and stop the blood that was gushing from his neck. 

It was strange how most people's first reaction to having their throat slit wasn't pain or fear, but surprise. Hutt made a gurgling sound before falling to his knees, looking up at Hux as if he had seen the General for the very first time.

Hux turned towards the three men Hutt had brought along, who were being held in check by Phasma and Ren. They had their swords drawn, their eyes darting from their fallen Commander to the bloodied dagger in Hux's hand. 

Putting the weapon aside, Hux raised his palms: “Gentlemen. There is no need for further bloodshed. Hear me out.” 

The men didn't move, didn't even twitch in the direction of Phasma and Ren, which was a very good sign indeed.

“I know you are – have been – loyal to your commander, and right now, you'd probably like nothing more than to run your swords through my heart. And while that would certainly bring you a feeling of satisfaction, it would also be the last thing you'll ever do. So I will ask you to put your loyalties aside and think of yourselves instead.”

Hux let his hands rest at the small of his back: “I know things haven't gone the way they should be for your company for a while now. Your soldiers are leaving you, and you are probably worrying if the Serpent will even exist any more come next spring. I can assure you that the First Order, on the other hand, will still be here.”

He let his words sink in, then went on: “Join me. Go to your men and tell them that if they decide to be a part of the Order, not only will they be on the winning side for once, they will also be able to feed themselves and their families. You know our reputation. You know that we are paid handsomly for every engagement. So, what do you say?”

Hux looked at each of the men in turn, and slowly, every one of them let their weapon sink. 

Hutt's second in command was the first to speak, giving Hux a short nod: “I'm in. And I'm sure my contingent will be, too.”

Seeing their impromptu leader agree to Hux's proposal, the other two also gave their agreement.

The General smiled, accepting the three men's handshakes. There were a few more details to hammer out, but that was something he left to Phasma. The new men would be under her direct command anyway. 

At a short signal from Hux, the tall woman sheathed her sword and stepped up next to her General: “Let's talk about specifics, then, Gentlemen...”

Hux withdrew, sure that his Captain could manage on her own from here on out. The three former Serpent men seemed to have been quite eager to switch allegiances, and while that served him well in this situation, he resolved to keep an eye on them in the future, even if he was sure that he was able to inspire a much deeper loyalty in his men than that idiot Hutt had ever been. 

Ren had followed him outside, and caught up with Hux in a few strides: “That went well.”

“Yes. I think it was quite a success.”

“And what about the rest of them?” Ren said, raising an inquiring eyebrow. “You're not simply assuming that it will work out just as smoothly?”

Hux snorted, rolling his eyes: “Of course not. We'll be doubling the perimeter guards, and I know Phasma will see to it that the new arrivals will be watched closely until they have proven themselves to be no threat to the Order.”

Ren nodded. They walked in silence for a while, then the Knight spoke up again: “When are we moving out?”

“In about two weeks. We'll meet up with the Talon on our way there.”

“I still say that it's risky.”

“And that is your prerogative, Ren.”

–

They had been scouting out the enemy for the last three days. Of course, not all of their scouts had made it back, but those that did had provided enough information for General Hux to draw a picture of what they were up against. 

The enemy had them outnumbered. This was nothing unusual, and also not something Hux really worried about. Most of the enemy's forces were comprised of the standing armies of the city and some allied nobles, with a single mercenary company to bolster them. While standing armies had a certain advantage when it came to motivation – the tended to care about the cause of the conflict and not simply its outcome – they usually didn't have as much experience on the battlefield as Hux' mercenaries. 

In fact, Hux was hoping that their inferior numbers would make the enemy somewhat complacent and prone to taking risks. Of course, the other side had also scouted them. Not all of their scouts had made it back, either. 

The board was set, all of the pieces were in their proper places, and tomorrow, the game would begin.

As was usual for the evening before the first battle, the men were a curious mix of quiet and raucous. Some were covering their trepidation with banter and drink, others were sitting quietly, talking in low voices, or praying to whatever higher power they believed in. 

Hux didn't believe in any power higher than himself. God didn't win battles, men did. He had gone over the strategy with his commanders about half a dozen times, making sure everyone knew their place and role in this game. It was sound, and Hux was quite sure the outcome would be positive. They might lose more men than he would like, but the rest of them would survive the winter and go on to fight next year's wars. 

There were always wars to fight. 

Pushing aside the flap of Ren's tent, Hux stepped inside: “Good evening, Ren. Checking your gear?”

Ren gave a short grunt, tugging at one of the leather straps of his Cuirass: “Double checking.”

“What,” Hux said with a grin, “and here I heard that you were indestructible. Invincible. That you don't really need armor.”

“Ass,” Ren retorted, but he was grinning. He knew about his reputation, about all the tall stories that got thrown around about him, mostly by the enemy. Or what was left of them. The men of the First Order had seen him bleed often enough to know that none of them were true.

Hux sat down on Ren's cot and watched as the other man finished his meticulous once-over of his armor. Where Phasma's armor was polished until it gleamed, Ren's looked worn but still well-kept. Hux knew it was an heirloom, passed down from Ren's grandfather, and the only thing that still connected him to his family. 

The knight finished his work in a manner that was annoyingly unhurried before turning his attention to Hux. Stepping in front of the redhead, Ren cupped Hux's face in his hands, pulling the other man up and into a deep kiss. Some men drank to quiet the voice of fear, others prayed, Ren and his General fucked. 

Hux made a low, whining sound at the back of his throat, his arms immediately winding around Ren's nape.

Ren moved his mouth towards Hux's neck, chuckling against the warm skin: “So needy.”

“Shut up, you – ah!” 

Whatever it was that Hux wanted to say was cut short by a sharp nip to the soft skin of his neck, Ren's teeth biting down hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, the knight's large hand landed on Hux's ass, grabbing none too gently. Hux groaned, letting his head fall back, giving Ren access to his throat. When Ren bent his head to kiss the hollow at its base, Hux let his fingers wind into Ren's hair, tugging at the black strands. 

Ren moaned and pulled back. The knight's eyes, dark even by daylight, seemed to have turned into pools of black, and Hux shivered at the sight. Growling, he crashed his mouth into Ren's, tightening his grip on the other man's hair to keep him in place while biting and sucking at Ren's lips until he noted the first taste of blood on his tongue. 

“You're an animal,” Ren panted when he finally managed to pull away.

Hux grinned at him, showing his teeth: “You're one to talk.” He leaned in until his lips were almost touching Ren's ear: “I know you, Ren. You revel in it. The screams, the blood, death all around you. Because deep down, you know that pain and misery is the only thing you're good for. Doesn't matter if it's someone else's or your own. You're not human, you're a monster.” 

With a soft sigh, Hux nuzzled against Ren's lobe: “But you're my monster. My beautiful, beautiful monster.” He laid a line of soft kisses down the side of Ren's neck while he continued: “And tomorrow, I will unleash you, and you will bring pain and death to everyone who dares stand in our way. Our enemy may have cannon, bullets, pikes and swords, but they don't have you, and because of that, they will lose.”

By the time Hux had finished speaking Ren was almost shaking with lust, his cock hard and pressing against Hux's hip: “You're the one they should be afraid of.”

Pulling back, Hux smirked: “And you? Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not,” Ren sneered. Stepping back, he raised his hand and wrapped his fingers around Hux's neck, pressing them into the other man's flesh, squeezing until he saw Hux's eyes light up with a mixture of fear and arousal.

Hux's next words were merely a whisper: “Then fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

–

General Hux stood in his stirrups, overlooking the ranks of his infantry and casting his gaze to the other side of the battlefield, where the enemy stood in formation, pikes bristling and swaying like the branches of trees in midwinter. There air seemed to be saturated by a tight, nervous energy, and underneath him, Starkiller snorted, shaking his broad head and pawing the ground. Hux reached down and gave the dappled stallion's neck an absent-minded pat. 

Half-turning in his saddle, Hux then looked back to where Ren and his cavalry stood. They wouldn't be part of the initial attack, waiting instead until some of the enemy's firepower had been spent. No sense in sending his best unit out to be shredded by enemy bullets and cannon. 

Giving Starkiller's flanks a light tap, Hux walked his horse forward into his place among the rest of the light cavalry. He gave a short nod to the officers flanking him before checking his weapons for the last time. It was completely unnecessary, almost silly even, but knowing that his sword and pistols were at their proper place calmed him. 

Closing his eyes, the General took a few deep breaths before snapping them open again, his voice bellowing over the heads of his men.

“Attack!”

–

Time always took on a strange quality on the battlefield, seemingly slowing down one moment and then speeding up again until it was rushing by so fast Hux barely had time to register it. Men dying by his sword in the blink of an eye. Seemingly being able to take several breaths while watching another man's face being ripped apart by one of his bullets. Hours of carnage flowing together and condensing into a hazy memory in which the passage of time was no longer measured by blows executed and taken but by the ache in his bones. 

The sun was already touching the horizon when both armies called retreat. There had been no clear victory that day, which would make for an uneasy night. Hux had found Starkiller waiting for him on the edge of the battlefield and had pulled himself back into the saddle to survey the carnage before returning to camp. The way things presented themselves, there were far more of the enemy's soldiers among the dead and dying littering the ground than there were of his own men, or those of their associated company. Hux allowed himself a short, tired smile. Maybe tomorrow would not see another day of fighting, but instead an envoy sent to negotiate terms of surrender. 

Phasma was already waiting for him when Hux arrived at camp and let himself slide off Starkiller's back. Hux patted the stallion's neck before letting him be led away, then turned to the Captain, pulling off his leather gloves and flexing his fingers: “Numbers?”

“Can't say for certain yet, General.”

“Make a guess.”

“Four hundred, give or take.”

“Hm.” Hux pushed his gloves into his belt and ran his hands over his face, rubbing off some of the grime. “Acceptable losses, I'd say.”

Phasma nodded. Her previously buffed to shine armor was now dull, caked with spatters of mud, blood and who knew what else, and Hux noticed that she was favoring her right shoulder. 

“Any word from Ren?” 

The Captain shook her head: “Nothing yet, though it seems that his men returned a while ago.”

Hux frowned and gave an annoyed sigh: “Seems like I have to go have an audience with his Lordship to get my debriefing, then.”

With that, he made his way to where the Knights of Ren had set up their camp. He had been working with Ren for some time now, but the man's lack of discipline still grated. Ren knew damn well that Hux needed both those numbers and any other important information as soon as possible, especially when it looked like they would have another day of battle. The men might get some well-deserved rest, but Hux had work to do. 

“Where's Ren?” Hux demanded of the first of the Knights he came across. 

The man, who was tending to what looked like a severely bruised knee, looked up at Hux, frowning: “Haven't seen hide nor hair of him since the battle. I'd assumed he was with you.”

It was the same with every other of Ren's men Hux asked. No one had seen the knight since the battle. What worried Hux was the picture he could put together from the snippets of information he had gotten out of the Knights. Not only had Ren apparently not returned, but it seemed that the last anyone had seen of him was when he had charged right into a small contingent of pikemen. Fucking idiot. Sometimes, Hux got the distinct impression that Ren believed the stories of his own invulnerability in battle. 

Phasma was lounging in one of his chairs when Hux returned to his tent: “So, what's the word from Ren?”

Hux let himself fall into the chair next to the Captain's and ran a hand through his hair: “There is no word from Ren.” 

Phasma raised an eyebrow, and Hux continued: “No one's seen him since the battle. Well, at least none of his men have. And from what they've told me...” Hux swallowed, emotion welling up in his chest, unbidden, “he might be dead.”

Phasma tilted her head, and there was a softness in her gaze and voice that was quite uncharacteristic for the usually harsh, down to earth Captain: “We don't know that. He might simply be wounded, and slow to make his way back.”

“Possibly.” 

Yes. That was probably the explanation. Ren was alive, and out there somewhere. The thought should have eased Hux's mind, but instead, it made the incessant gnawing deep in his chest worsen. He looked down at his hands, which had clenched into fists, blunt nails digging into the palms of his hands. 

Hux took a deep breath, returning his gaze to his Captain: “I've got to find him, Phasma. It's getting dark, and you know what that means. The vultures are coming.”

There were always those who profited from the carnage and death brought about by a battle. Looting the dead and those who had been left behind because they were too close to death already, often killing them before robbing their bodies of anything of value. The money one could make off a knight's armor could feed an entire family for a long, long time. 

Phasma nodded: “I'll send out a few men to comb the battlefield.”

“I'm going with them.”

“Like hell you are,” Phasma said with a snort, “you, General, are staying right where you are. You need rest.”

“Fuck that. I won't get any rest before I know what's happened to him,” Hux snapped.

“Be that as it may, you're not going.” There was a note of warning in Phasma's voice: “I'm not having you out there, getting yourself captured and ransomed. Or killed. We fucking need you.”

Hux stood up, jaw clenched, and reached for his sword: “Are you going to try and stop me?”

For a moment, General and Captain glared at each other, almost daring each other to back down. Then, Phasma shook her head, her gaze dropping for a moment.

“Fuck you, Hux. You better get back here alive, and with that asshole knight in tow.” She rose from the chair: “I'm going to round up a few of my men. Do me the small favor of at least waiting for them, yeah?”

Hux nodded, then gave her an almost apologetic smirk: “Understood, Captain.”

–

There was barely any daylight left when the small detachment of soldiers arrived at what had been today's battlefield. Dusk was turning every color into different, muted shades of gray, which, even though it made the search more difficult, was something of a blessing. Blood and gore always appeared less real in the nighttime. Hux had always wondered why some people were afraid of the dark. 

The General gestured for the others to fan out over the area where Ren had last been seen, then gave his horse a gentle kick with his heels. Hux trusted Starkiller to pick his own way through the labyrinth of bodies and dropped weapons, focusing on letting his gaze wander around, searching for the dulled shine of plate armor, for a familiar shape, something. There were a few shadows scuttling around, but the seemed intent on avoiding him. Which, Hux had to grudgingly admit to himself, was probably in part due to the half dozen of armed men Phasma had drummed up to accompany him. 

He tried to focus on his task, on finding Ren, but Hux found his mind wandering more than once. What if it turned out that Ren was dead? It was just as likely as anything else, and out here in the semi-darkness, alone among the dead and dying, Hux allowed himself to feel the dread that thought brought with it. The way it clenched in his chest, clawed at his ribs, ripped at his heart. He couldn't lose Ren. He didn't want to lose Ren. 

It wasn't just about losing a great military asset, either. In fact, that thought only entered Hux's mind fleetingly. No, Hux didn't want to lose Ren because Ren was his. As much as Ren vexed him, often to the point where Hux had considered dispatching of the knight himself, Hux didn't know what he would do if Ren were to be ripped out of his life, out of his bed, out of his heart. 

Frowning, Hux chased away those thoughts and let his gaze wander over the ground. A little further on, three shapes had converged around something, and a whispered but no less heated discussion had broken out between the men. Narrowing his eyes, Hux spurred his horse into a slow trot and reached for the snaplock pistol he had tucked into his belt. 

At the sound of hooves, the three men turned, facing him, and Hux got a chance to look at the source of their argument. A figure was lying on the ground, grey fingers of light shining on a suit of dented and already half disassembled plate armor. 

Ren.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Hux raised his voice in greeting, making sure there was an edge to it that no one could confuse with friendliness, “and thank you for finding my knight for me.” He grinned, showing his teeth: “Now, drop whatever you've taken from him and get lost.”

“Now wait a minute...”

The man didn't get any further before he reeled with the impact of Hux's shot into his shoulder.

“I said,” Hux said, putting away his snaplock and reaching for his sword, “get lost.”

The other two seemed to get the hint, dropping their hands away from their crude weapons and making a run for it. Hux didn't pay any attention to the wounded man, who was trying to crawl away, but instead vaulted off Starkiller's back and crouched down next to the prone figure of Ren.

“Ren?”

No answer, but then, Hux hadn't really expected one. Hoped for, yes, wished for, but not expected. 

“Don't be dead,” Hux muttered under his breath, “don't you dare be dead, don't you dare leave me alone you fucker...”

He quickly undid the straps of Ren's helmet and slowly, carefully pulled it away. Had that been a groan? No, his mind was playing tricks on him, nothing but wishful thinking, and Hux could feel tears prick in his eyes. 

Bending down over Ren's body, Hux brought his ear as close as possible to the knight's lips. He wasn't sure he would be able to hear anything, not with the way his heart was thumping away in his chest. Still, he waited, and listened. 

There it was. A faint, faint breath, not so much heard as felt. 

Elation rushed through him like a tidal wave, and Hux jumped to his feet: “Get over here! He's alive!”

Crouching down again, Hux carefully laid a hand on Ren's head, brushing away a sticky strand of hair with his thumb: “He's alive.”

–

Over the next few days, the relief Hux had felt at that faint breath withered away under the weight of his worry. They had won the battle, yes, but it had barely registered in his mind. While the men and women under his command celebrated their hard-earned victory, Hux spent most of his time in the surgeon's tent, waiting. Waiting for the fever to break, the infection to relent, for Ren to open his eyes. Of course, no one knew what had happened, but Ren's injuries and the damage to his armor spoke of a severe blow to the head which had unsaddled him, followed by a stab to the armpit which had somehow, miraculously not killed him. Yet. 

Hux knew that their surgeon was one of the best, with more years of experience with battlefield injuries than Hux himself had, but that hadn't kept him from snapping at the man to do something, anything, that this couldn't be the full extent of his knowledge and capabilities, and he had only stopped when the man had threatened to get Phasma to remove him from Ren's bedside. 

“I've never seen you this worried over anyone,” the Captain had remarked on her last visit.

Hux had given a derisive snort: “Well, no one else is as important and valuable an asset as Ren.”

“Mhm,” the Captain had said, raising her eyebrow at him with a smirk, “I'm sure that's all there is to it.”

He hadn't been aware that he had fallen asleep in his chair when a brittle, croaking voice roused him from his slumber.

“Hux?”

Hux blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The moment his vision cleared, he turned his gaze to Ren, and his heart gave a loud thump when he saw that Ren was looking back at him, and not with the fever-lit, unseeing eyes that had met Hux's own over the last days. No, Ren's dark eyes were clear, even through the pain and exhaustion Hux could read in them. 

“Welcome back,” Hux said, a smile lighting up his face. 

Then, he reached forward to touch Ren's forehead with the back of his hand, and the moment his skin touched the clammy but blessedly cool skin there, it was as if a whole mountain shifted from his heart. 

“I'm thirsty.” 

Ren's voice almost broke over those two words, and Hux hurriedly stood up to fetch a pitcher and a cup: “Can you sit up?”

Stupid question, of course Ren couldn't sit up. Not waiting for an answer, Hux sat down on the cot and carefully manhandled Ren until the knight's back was resting against Hux's chest. Even though he had done his utmost to not disturb the wound, Ren had still hissed in pain, and his face had gone white by the time Hux handed him the cup.

At first, Ren's sips were careful, as if he didn't trust himself to be able to stomach even the tiniest bit of water, but in the end, he had gulped down almost the whole pitcher, and his voice was a lot clearer when he carefully turned his head to look up at Hux: “I thought I'd die out there.”

Hux nuzzled into Ren's dark hair, not caring that it was a tangled, sticky mess: “For a while, I thought you'd die in here. You stupid fuck. What were you thinking, letting yourself get overpowered like that?”

“My, my.” Ren's chuckle ended in a cough, which made him yelp softly from the pain it brought. “Is that worry I detect in your voice?”

“Oh, shut up. You know damn well how I feel about you. I sat here for days, waiting for you to either wake or die. So don't play stupid games.” Hux closed his eyes and gave a short sigh: “Not now.”

Ren shifted a little so that he could look at Hux's face: “My apologies. And if it makes you feel better...” Ren swallowed, his gaze sincere: “My biggest worry out there was that I'd die without seeing you again, without you knowing.”

For a while, the two men simply sat there, the General holding his stricken knight. Finally, Hux carefully lowered Ren back onto the bed: “I'm going to get the surgeon. Your wound needs re-dressing.”

Ren groped for Hux's hand, giving it a slight squeeze: “Thank you.”

Hux smiled, then bent down to kiss Ren's parched lips: “Hurry up and heal. I need you.”

He almost didn't hear the words that followed his retreating form.

“Need you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
